


Coffee and Tea

by starknight



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Late Night Conversations, One Shot, reassurance, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-22 20:50:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23400217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starknight/pseuds/starknight
Summary: It’s usually the same routine: the Doctor wakes Yaz, Yaz pretends not to like it, and then they drink sleepy tea and talk over the TARDIS console. She can’t remember when they started doing it. Actually, she can’t remember a night in the last few weeks they didn’t do it.But it’s nice.And Yaz isn’t usually the type to crave attention, but the Doctor’s different. She’s addicting. This is all the time Yaz gets the Doctor to herself. She has to savour it.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 25
Kudos: 110





	Coffee and Tea

**Author's Note:**

> Lockdown has me feeling all the warm fuzzy thasmin feels. If you enjoy this, please leave kudos or comments, they sustain me 💖💖 stay safe, stay sane, stay awesome, and stay inside!

Yaz often wonders if the TARDIS is meant to creak this much. Mostly when she’s trying to get to sleep. If she didn’t know better, she might think there was a sneaky time lord creeping around the corridors.

“Pssst,” the Doctor hisses from the doorway.

Yaz smiles to herself, then sighs loudly for the Doctor’s benefit.

“You better make coffee tomorrow morning,” Yaz tells the Doctor, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, “or else I’m just going to sit the next planet out.”

“You wouldn’t.” The Doctor’s right. She wouldn’t.

“Fine. But I still want coffee.”

Yaz sees the Doctor’s silhouette give her a little salute in the low hallway lights.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Yaz grins and follows her down the hallway.

It’s usually the same routine: the Doctor wakes Yaz, Yaz pretends not to like it, and then they drink sleepy tea and talk over the TARDIS console. She can’t remember when they started doing it. Actually, she can’t remember a night in the last few weeks they didn’t do it.

But it’s nice. 

And Yaz isn’t usually the type to crave attention, but the Doctor’s different. She’s addicting. This is all the time Yaz gets the Doctor to herself. She has to savour it.

“I thought we’d try something a bit different tonight,” the Doctor says, poking a teaspoon into her cup like it’s some kind of explosive. “It’s infused with zongaberry.”

“Bless you.”

The Doctor gives her a look. “Zongaberry is a real berry.”

“And what if I just don’t believe you?” Yaz takes her place on the stair below the Doctor, and picks up her steaming cup.

“Your loss.” The Doctor shrugs, takes a sip of her tea, and immediately spits it back out into her cup.

“That bad?”

“No,” the Doctor mutters. “I burnt my tongue.”

Yaz looks up to see the Doctor’s tongue poking out of her mouth. She’s going cross-eyed trying to assess the damage. It’s… distracting.

She realises she’s staring when the Doctor looks at her, and she jumps, spilling a bit of tea on herself.

“Shit,” she mutters, looking around for a tissue. She should know better: she’s in the TARDIS, not a convenience store. 

Then the Doctor’s hands are there, and Yaz is scared to breathe. The Doctor presses a handkerchief to her pink penguin-patterned pyjamas, just beneath her heart. Yaz really hopes it doesn’t feel as loud as it sounds in her ears right now.

“There we go,” the Doctor murmurs, tucking her handkerchief into a coat pocket. “All better.”

Yaz exhales slowly, and takes a sip of her tea for something to do.

“Oh, this is good.”

“Not so disparaging about zongaberry after all, eh?”

“I’m still never going to say that word.”

The Doctor snorts. Yaz suddenly notices they’re sitting on the same step now. Quite close, in fact.

“Yaz?” the Doctor asks.

“Yeah?”

“You like travelling with me, right?”

Yaz looks across at the Doctor, who’s staring steadily at the TARDIS console. She knows that gaze. It’s the avoiding-your-gaze gaze.

“Of course. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“And you like seeing all the different planets?”

“Yeah. Look, you know -”

“And you like meeting all the different people?”

“Where are you going with this?”

The Doctor sighs and turns her gaze on Yaz. Her eyes are wide, her expression uncharacteristically anxious.

“What if I didn’t have the TARDIS?”

Yaz scoffs. “What? Why wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know, but just - what if I didn’t? And I wasn’t a Time Lord?” The Doctor looks down at her tea. She’s tracing the edge of her cup with a shaking finger.

“What do you mean, Doctor?” Yaz sets her tea on the step next to her and puts a tentative hand over the Doctor’s. She can feel the warmth of her cup through it.

“What if I was human, Yaz?”

“So what if you were? We’d probably have to settle for travelling around earth instead. And you’d be stuck in the 21st century. You’d be pissed about that, eh?”

The Doctor smiles, but doesn’t look up.

“You’d still - you’d still travel with me?”

“Well, we’d need to prepare a bit more. Flights and stuff. Hotels. Money. Jobs.”

“Ugh. You’re right, I would be pissed.”

Yaz laughs at that, but the Doctor still doesn’t seem totally satisfied with her answer.

“What are you getting at, really?” Yaz asks.

The Doctor screws up her face. “Look, I just… If I were human… No powers… Absolutely normal. Would you still like me?”

Yaz huffs a laugh. She can’t help herself. 

_ “That’s _ what you’re worried about?”

The Doctor pulls her hood over her head, completely obscuring her face.

“Just answer the question, please.” It comes out a little muffled.

Yaz takes the Doctor’s tea and puts it next to hers so she can pull her idiot Time Lord into a hug.

“Of  _ course  _ I’d still like you. And even if you were human, there’s no way you’d ever be normal. You know that.”

The Doctor leans into her silently, and Yaz holds her tighter.

“I’m normal,” Yaz says, “and you still like me. For some unknown reason.”

“You’re not normal!” the Doctor exclaims, sitting up and pulling her hood back. “Yasmin Khan, you’re brilliant. You’re kind and you’re strong and you’re brave - actually, you’re a bit too brave, and I’m worried about it, but it’s still good - and you do all that as a  _ human. _ You’re incredible. I have so many reasons for liking you, and I can’t think of them all right now, but I promise I’ll write you a big list of them all so that -”

“Doctor,” Yaz interrupts weakly. She can feel her eyes burning. “You don’t have to say all that. You’re the brilliant one.”

“Are you sure it’s not just all the alien stuff, though? Really? I wouldn’t blame you if it was. If some absolute tosser abducted me, but then it turned out they had my only ticket to space, I’d probably take it.”

_ “Doctor.” _ Yaz squeezes their intertwined hands (when did their hands become intertwined?). “I’m sure. It’s you. It’s always you.”

The Doctor sniffs wetly, then leans forward and kisses Yaz on the forehead. Yaz’s stomach does a weird lurching thing that her heart copies. Is this platonic? Are the Doctor’s lips lingering in a platonic way? Or is this -

The Doctor kisses her nose.

Heat flushes through Yaz, along with a healthy amount of adrenaline. That doesn’t seem platonic. If she asked Ryan, he’d say she was being a lesbian disaster. But it could still technically be plato-

Then the Doctor kisses her properly, and Yaz responds as enthusiastically as her slow-buffering mind will let her. Holy shit.  _ Holy shit. _ Not platonic. The Doctor’s lips are soft and tentative on hers. A hand slides to the back of Yaz’s neck, another fisting in her pyjama collar. She kisses the Doctor slowly, deeply, trying to wring out as much of the tenderness in her heart as possible.

Yaz doesn’t know how long it lasts. It’s still not enough. When the Doctor breaks away, she whines in protest.

“Yaz,” the Doctor whispers, a hand on her cheek. “It’s late.”

“I don’t mind,” Yaz insists, leaning forwards, but the Doctor puts a finger on her lips.

“Sleep,” she says. “Or no amount of coffee will help.”

“But -”

“I’ll still be here in the morning, Yaz.”

Yaz bites her lip. “Will you still want to kiss me, though?”

The Doctor blushes. She  _ blushes. _ It’s the most beautiful thing Yaz has ever seen, ever, in her whole entire life.

“Yeah,” she says. “Definitely.”

“Kiss me goodnight, at least.”

The Doctor stands up and pulls Yaz to her feet. She kneels (and fuck, the things that does to Yaz’s brain) and kisses the back of Yaz’s hand like some sort of old-timey gallant noble. Then she turns Yaz’s hand over and kisses her palm, working her way up each finger, ending on the tip of her thumb.

“Goodnight,” the Doctor breathes, looking up at Yaz.

“Goodnight,” Yaz manages, her hand trembling.

And if the Doctor’s plan was for Yaz to get any amount of sleep, well, it was a terrible plan to begin with.

**Author's Note:**

> [come yell at my tumblr](https://gay-star-knight.tumblr.com/)


End file.
